


The Flora and Fauna of your Heart

by orphan_account



Category: Hannibal - Thomas Harris, Red Dragon (2002)
Genre: M/M, Open Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-10 01:26:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/93697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The two are spending a relaxed evening in at Lecter's house. The good doctor decides to indulge. (Pre-Red Dragon).</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Flora and Fauna of your Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Title yoinked from an otherwise unrelated Indigo Girls song. Crossposted from my LJ, and as such, the publication date reflects the original post.

It's evening, and they are in Lecter's kitchen. Will is sitting on the counter, perusing the case file which will eventually lead them to Hobbs. Hannibal tolerates Will's use of his kitchen counter only because the way Will looks perched there makes something rumble pleasantly in his chest.

Will is just sipping at his glass of white wine, enough to feel filled to the brim with warmth without affecting his higher functions. He feels too comfortable at the moment to really focus on the case. A break from visions of murder would probably be healthy, anyway, so he closes the file. He doesn't know enough about cooking or fine cuisine to know what it is Hannibal is crafting across the room, but there's a large quantity of seafood in it, and it smells amazing. Will tries not to moan as he inhales the heady scent.

Will looks warm and soft. His jeans and converse are well worn, the cream-colored sweater rolled up almost to his elbows, and his hair is in mild disarray. He contrasts sharply to Lecter, who's clad in darker colors and crisper fabrics. Hannibal watches Will stretch, roll his neck until he hears a slight crack. His eyes linger on the younger man's soft throat.

He thinks he'd like to sink his teeth into that flesh. Gently, of course. He has no desire to harm the boy. He quite likes him, in fact. Hannibal just wants to taste that thick, coppery blood as it seeped forth. Wants Will to taste his own blood off Hannibal's lips. He would hurt Will tenderly, lovingly.

His sexual interest in Will is hardly a new thing. It has been growing steadily inside him, a complacent beast, content to watch events unfold patiently and purr on occasion. Like now.

The beast is dark and sleek and warm, curled lazily inside a deep red space within his ribcage. And even if it is immersed rather fully in Lecter's more taboo indulgences, the creature is somehow not even touched by the wickedness that Hannibal thought inherent in his desires.

Will opens his eyes when he hears Hannibal turn off the burner on the stove.

The older man is already standing right in front of him, snug between Will's legs, and his hands glide surely up Will's strong thighs. He has decided he does not fear letting this beast near his dear, fragile William. It may wish to claim the boy completely, but it also wishes to protect him. Will gasps softly, and his eyes are wide as saucers when Hannibal hooks his fingers under Will's belt to pull him closer, until they are pressed together _just there_. His eyelids flutter.

Hannibal grins a little at Will's lack of protest. This is going quite well.

Will's blue, blue eyes are wide open when Hannibal's hand finds the back of his neck and pulls him forward into a bruising kiss. This close, the doctor's eyes shine with a rich crimson, and it's like peering into a deep pool of wine. Lecter is delighted to find that Will's lips are as warm and soft and pliant as he'd imagined.

"You have the most beautiful eyes, William," Hannibal breathes against the boy's swollen lips, "So clear." And he gives a jaunty little thrust of his hips that makes Will moan into their kiss.

Will's hands have made their way to Hannibal's waist, where they're attempting to pull him even closer. Yes, this was a good choice. Lecter continues the languorous roll of his hips, soaking up the way they fit together. William is _his_.

"My very own _eideteker_." He muses softly as he nips gently at Will's jaw. It will become a pet name. Will's warm chuckle turns to a small moan as Hannibal shifts his hips even closer to the boy. Lecter can hear the beast purring loudly in his ears, can feel it there where it's grown fat in his chest.

Hannibal slides one hand between Will's thighs to stroke his pleasantly throbbing cock through the worn denim, which makes Will thrust his tongue past Lecter's teeth. Their tongues slide against each other slowly until Lecter sucks the boy's sweet lower lip into his mouth and bites.

He contemplates whether he should strip Will of all his clothes and slide him between the fine sheets of his bed, or see if he can make the boy come in his pants right here. He grazes Will's throat with his teeth and lazily thumbs the head of Will's cock through his jeans while he thinks.

The dagger and the bullets and the long rot in prison at his _eideteker_'s hands are a ways off, yet. He has time.


End file.
